The Fabric of the Cosmos: Space, Time, and the Texture of Reality (14 page)

An important question, and one that may have occurred to you, is whether the uncertainty principle is a statement about what we can know about reality or whether it is a statement about reality itself. Do objects making up the universe really have a position and a velocity, like our usual classical image of just about everything—a soaring baseball, a jogger on the boardwalk, a sunflower slowly tracking the sun's flight across the sky—although quantum uncertainty tells us these features of reality are forever beyond our ability to know simultaneously, even in principle? Or does quantum uncertainty break the classical mold completely, telling us that the list of attributes our classical intuition ascribes to reality, a list headed by the positions and velocities of the ingredients making up the world, is misguided? Does quantum uncertainty tell us that, at any given moment, particles simply do not possess a definite position and a definite velocity?

To Bohr, this issue was on par with a Zen koan. Physics addresses only things we can measure. From the standpoint of physics, that
is
reality. Trying to use physics to analyze a "deeper" reality, one beyond what we can know through measurement, is like asking physics to analyze the sound of one hand clapping. But in 1935, Einstein together with two colleagues, Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen, raised this issue in such a forceful and clever way that what had begun as one hand clapping reverberated over fifty years into a thunderclap that heralded a far greater assault on our understanding of reality than even Einstein ever envisioned.

The intent of the Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen paper was to show that quantum mechanics, while undeniably successful at making predictions and explaining data, could not be the final word regarding the physics of the microcosmos. Their strategy was simple, and was based on the issues just raised: they wanted to show that every particle does possess a definite position and a definite velocity at any given instant of time, and thus they wanted to conclude that the uncertainty principle reveals a fundamental limitation of the quantum mechanical approach. If every particle has a position and a velocity, but quantum mechanics cannot deal with these features of reality, then quantum mechanics provides only a partial description of the universe. Quantum mechanics, they intended to show, was therefore an incomplete theory of physical reality and, perhaps, merely a stepping-stone toward a deeper framework waiting to be discovered. In actuality, as we will see, they laid the groundwork for demonstrating something even more dramatic: the nonlocality of the quantum world.

Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen (EPR) were partly inspired by Heisenberg's rough explanation of the uncertainty principle: when you measure where something is you necessarily disturb it, thereby contaminating any attempt to simultaneously ascertain its velocity. Although, as we have seen, quantum uncertainty is more general than the "disturbance" explanation indicates, Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen invented what appeared to be a convincing and clever end run around
any
source of uncertainty. What if, they suggested, you could perform an indirect measurement of both the position and the velocity of a particle in a manner that never brings you into contact with the particle itself? For instance, using a classical analogy, imagine that Rod and Todd Flanders decide to do some lone wandering in Springfield's newly formed Nuclear Desert. They start back to back in the desert's center and agree to walk straight ahead, in opposite directions, at exactly the same prearranged speed. Imagine further that, nine hours later, their father, Ned, returning from his trek up Mount Springfield, catches sight of Rod, runs to him, and desperately asks about Todd's whereabouts. Well, by that point, Todd is far away, but by questioning and observing Rod, Ned can nevertheless learn much about Todd. If Rod is exactly 45 miles due east of the starting location, Todd must be exactly 45 miles due west of the starting location. If Rod is walking at exactly 5 miles per hour due east, Todd must be walking at exactly 5 miles per hour due west. So even though Todd is some 90 miles away, Ned can determine his position and speed, albeit indirectly.

Einstein and his colleagues applied a similar strategy to the quantum domain. There are well-known physical processes whereby two particles emerge from a common location with properties that are related in somewhat the same way as the motion of Rod and Todd. For example, if an initial single particle should disintegrate into two particles of equal mass that fly off "back-to-back" (like an explosive shooting off two chunks in opposite directions), something that is common in the realm of subatomic particle physics, the velocities of the two constituents will be equal and opposite. Moreover, the positions of the two constituent particles will also be closely related, and for simplicity the particles can be thought of as always being equidistant from their common origin.

An important distinction between the classical example involving Rod and Todd, and the quantum description of the two particles, is that although we can say with certainty that there is a definite relationship between the speeds of the two particles—if one were measured and found to be moving to the left at a given speed, then the other would necessarily be moving to the right at the same speed—we cannot predict the actual numerical value of the speed with which the particles move. Instead, the best we can do is use the laws of quantum physics to predict the probability that any particular speed is the one attained. Similarly, while we can say with certainty that there is a definite relationship between the positions of the particles—if one is measured at a given moment and found to be at some location, the other necessarily is located the same distance from the starting point but in the opposite direction—we cannot predict with certainty the actual location of either particle. Instead, the best we can do is predict the probability that one of the particles is at any chosen location. Thus, while quantum mechanics does not give definitive answers regarding particle speeds or positions, it does, in certain situations, give definitive statements regarding the
relationships
between the particle speeds and positions.

Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen sought to exploit these relationships to show that each of the particles actually has a definite position and a definite velocity at every given instant of time. Here's how: imagine you measure the position of the right-moving particle and in this way learn, indirectly, the position of the left-moving particle. EPR argued that since you have done nothing, absolutely nothing, to the left-moving particle, it must have
had
this position, and all you have done is determine it, albeit indirectly. They then cleverly pointed out that you could have chosen instead to measure the right-moving particle's velocity. In that case you would have, indirectly, determined the velocity of the left-moving particle without at all disturbing it. Again, EPR argued that since you would have done nothing, absolutely nothing, to the left-moving particle, it must have
had
this velocity, and all you would have done is determine it. Putting both together—the measurement that you did and the measurement that you
could
have done—EPR concluded that the left-moving particle has a definite position and a definite velocity at any given moment.

As this is subtle and crucial, let me say it again. EPR reasoned that nothing in your act of measuring the right-moving particle could possibly have any effect on the left-moving particle, because they are separate and distant entities. The left-moving particle is totally oblivious to what you have done or could have done to the right-moving particle. The particles might be meters, kilometers, or light-years apart when you do your measurement on the right-moving particle, so, in short, the left-moving particle couldn't care less what you do. Thus, any feature that you actually learn or could in principle learn about the left-moving particle from studying its right-moving counterpart must be a
definite, existing
feature of the left-moving particle, totally independent of your measurement. And since if you had measured the position of the right particle you would have learned the position of the left particle, and if you had measured the velocity of the right particle you would have learned the velocity of the left particle, it must be that the left-moving particle actually has both a definite position and velocity. Of course, this whole discussion could be carried out interchanging the roles of left-moving and right-moving particles (and, in fact, before doing any measurement we can't even say which particle is moving left and which is moving right); this leads to the conclusion that both particles have definite positions and speeds.

Thus, EPR concluded that quantum mechanics is an incomplete description of reality. Particles have definite positions and speeds, but the quantum mechanical uncertainty principle shows that these features of reality are beyond the bounds of what the theory can handle. If, in agreement with these and most other physicists, you believe that a full theory of nature should describe every attribute of reality, the failure of quantum mechanics to describe both the positions and the velocities of particles means that it misses some attributes and is therefore not a complete theory; it is not the final word. That is what Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen vigorously argued.

While EPR concluded that each particle has a definite position and velocity at any given moment, notice that if you follow their procedure you will fall short of actually determining these attributes. I said, above, that you could have chosen to measure the right-moving particle's velocity. Had you done so, you would have disturbed its position; on the other hand, had you chosen to measure its position you would have disturbed its velocity. If you don't have both of these attributes of the right-moving particle in hand, you don't have them for the left-moving particle either. Thus,
there is no conflict with the uncertainty principle:
Einstein and his collaborators fully recognized that they could not identify both the location and the velocity of any given particle. But, and this is key, even without determining both the position and velocity of either particle, EPR's reasoning shows that each
has
a definite position and velocity. To them, it was a question of reality. To them, a theory could not claim to be complete if there were elements of reality that it could not describe.

After a bit of intellectual scurrying in response to this unexpected observation, the defenders of quantum mechanics settled down to their usual, pragmatic approach, summarized well by the eminent physicist Wolfgang Pauli: "One should no more rack one's brain about the problem of whether something one cannot know anything about exists all the same, than about the ancient question of how many angels are able to sit on the point of a needle."
⁹
Physics in general, and quantum mechanics in particular, can deal only with the measurable properties of the universe. Anything else is simply not in the domain of physics. If you can't measure both the position and the velocity of a particle, then there is no sense in talking about whether it has both a position and a velocity.

EPR disagreed. Reality, they maintained, was more than the readings on detectors; it was more than the sum total of all observations at a given moment. When no one, absolutely no one, no device, no equipment, no anything at all is "looking" at the moon, they believed, the moon was still there. They believed that it was still part of reality.

In a way, this standoff echoes the debate between Newton and Leibniz about the reality of space. Can something be considered real if we can't actually touch it or see it or in some way measure it? In Chapter 2, I described how Newton's bucket changed the character of the space debate, suddenly suggesting that an influence of space could be observed directly, in the curved surface of spinning water. In 1964, in a single stunning stroke that one commentator has called "the most profound discovery of science,"
¹⁰
the Irish physicist John Bell did the same for the quantum reality debate.

In the following four sections, we will describe Bell's discovery, judiciously steering clear of all but a minimum of technicalities. All the same, even though the discussion uses reasoning less sophisticated than working out the odds in a craps game, it does involve a couple of steps that we must describe and then link together. Depending on your particular taste for detail, there may come a point when you just want the punch line. If this happens, feel free to jump to page 112, where you'll find a summary and a discussion of conclusions stemming from Bell's discovery.

John Bell transformed the central idea of the Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen paper from philosophical speculation into a question that could be answered by concrete experimental measurement. Surprisingly, all he needed to accomplish this was to consider a situation in which there were not just two features—for instance, position and velocity—that quantum uncertainty prevents us from simultaneously determining. He showed that if there are three or more features that simultaneously come under the umbrella of uncertainty—three or more features with the property that in measuring one, you contaminate the others and hence can't determine anything about them—then there
is
an experiment to address the reality question. The simplest such example involves something known as
spin.

Since the 1920s, physicists have known that particles spin—they execute rotational motion akin to a soccer ball's spinning around as it heads toward the goal. Quantum particle spin, however, differs from this classical image in a number of essential ways, and foremost for us are the following two points. First, particles—for example, electrons and photons— can spin only clockwise or counterclockwise at one never-changing rate about any particular axis; a particle's spin axis can change directions but its rate of spin cannot slow down or speed up. Second, quantum uncertainty applied to spin shows that just as you can't simultaneously determine the position and the velocity of a particle, so also you can't simultaneously determine the spin of a particle about more than one axis. For example, if a soccer ball is spinning about a northeast-pointing axis, its spin is shared between a northward- and an eastward-pointing axis—and by a suitable measurement, you could determine the fraction of spin about each. But if you measure an electron's spin about any randomly chosen axis, you never find a fractional amount of spin. Ever. It's as if the measurement itself forces the electron to gather together all its spinning motion and direct it to be either clockwise or counterclockwise about the axis you happened to have focused on. Moreover, because of your measurement's influence on the electron's spin, you lose the ability to determine how it was spinning about a horizontal axis, about a back-and-forth axis, or about any other axis, prior to your measurement. These features of quantum mechanical spin are hard to picture fully, and the difficulty highlights the limits of classical images in revealing the true nature of the quantum world. Nevertheless, the mathematics of quantum theory, and decades of experiment, assure us that these characteristics of quantum spin are beyond doubt.

The reason for introducing spin here is not to delve into the intricacies of particle physics. Rather, the example of particle spin will, in just a moment, provide a simple laboratory for extracting wonderfully unexpected answers to the reality question. That is, does a particle simultaneously
have
a definite amount of spin about each and every axis, although we can never know it for more than one axis at a time because of quantum uncertainty? Or does the uncertainty principle tell us something else? Does it tell us, contrary to any classical notion of reality, that a particle simply does not and cannot possess such features simultaneously? Does it tell us that a particle resides in a state of quantum limbo, having no definite spin about any given axis, until someone or something measures it, causing it to snap to attention and attain—with a probability determined by quantum theory—one particular spin value or another (clockwise or counterclockwise) about the selected axis? By studying this question, essentially the same one we asked in the case of particle positions and velocities, we can use spin to probe the nature of quantum reality (and to extract answers that greatly transcend the specific example of spin). Let's see this.

As explicitly shown by the physicist David Bohm,
¹¹
the reasoning of Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen can easily be extended to the question of whether particles have definite spins about any and all chosen axes. Here's how it goes. Set up two detectors capable of measuring the spin of an incoming electron, one on the left side of the laboratory and the other on the right side. Arrange for two electrons to emanate back-to-back from a source midway between the two detectors, such that their spins—rather than their positions and velocities as in our earlier example—are correlated. The details of how this is done are not important; what is important is that it can be done and, in fact, can be done easily. The correlation can be arranged so that if the left and right detectors are set to measure the spins along axes pointing in the same direction, they will get the same result: if the detectors are set to measure the spin of their respective incoming electrons about a vertical axis and the left detector finds that the spin is clockwise, so will the right detector; if the detectors are set to measure spin along an axis 60 degrees clockwise from the vertical and the left detector measures a counterclockwise spin, so will the right detector; and so on. Again, in quantum mechanics the best we can do is predict the probability that the detectors will find clockwise or counterclockwise spin, but we can predict with 100 percent certainty that whatever one detector finds the other will find, too.
⁷

Bohm's refinement of the EPR argument is now, for all intents and purposes, the same as it was in the original version that focused on position and velocity. The correlation between the particles' spins allows us to measure indirectly the spin of the left-moving particle about some axis by measuring that of its right-moving companion about that axis. Since this measurement is done far on the right side of the laboratory, it can't possibly influence the left-moving particle in any way. Hence, the latter must all along have had the spin value just determined; all we did was measure it, albeit indirectly. Moreover, since we could have chosen to perform this measurement about
any
axis, the same conclusion must hold for any axis: the left-moving electron must have a definite spin about each and every axis, even though we can explicitly determine it only about one axis at a time. Of course, the roles of left and right can be reversed, leading to the conclusion that each particle has a definite spin about any axis.
¹²

At this stage, seeing no obvious difference from the position/velocity example, you might take Pauli's lead and be tempted to respond that there is no point in thinking about such issues. If you can't actually measure the spin about different axes, what is the point in wondering whether the particle nevertheless has a definite spin—clockwise versus counterclockwise—about each? Quantum mechanics, and physics more generally, is obliged only to account for features of the world that can be measured. And neither Bohm, Einstein, Podolsky, nor Rosen would have argued that the measurements can be done. Instead, they argued that the particles possess features forbidden by the uncertainty principle even though we can never explicitly know their particular values. Such features have come to be known as
hidden features,
or, more commonly,
hidden variables.

Here is where John Bell changed everything. He discovered that even if you can't actually determine the spin of a particle about more than one axis, still, if in fact it
has
a definite spin about all axes, then there are testable, observable consequences of that spin.